


Diner Duet

by Damalia (Achrya)



Series: BusStopVerse [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Boys in Skirts, Genderfluid Character, Introspection, M/M, Side mikannie - Freeform, side eremin, side reibert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean thinks about Marco, Marco's skirts, and the whole personal growth thing. </p><p>Short follow up to Bus Stop Serenade</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diner Duet

**Author's Note:**

> A general warning because Jean is…um. hmm. Sort of clumsy on how he thinks about Armin being genderfluid vs Marco who likes to wear skirts sometimes. He’s a teenager looking at these things from the outside in, so it’s not as nice and clean as it would ideally be.
> 
> Just a short introspective thing that is almost entirely Jean thinking about how much he likes Marco's legs.
> 
> JeanMarco with light Eremin, Mikannie, and maybe sorta Reibert. 

 

The single most unexpected thing about dating Marco was the amount of time he found himself spending with his own friends as a result. Marco had taken to Armin and Annie, Mikasa’s girlfriend, at the carnival and a friendship had formed between the three of them. Now sometimes hanging out with Marco meant hanging out with them too.

He only resented having to share his new boyfriend with his friends a little. 

Well now Jean was sitting at a table at a diner, Marco on one side, close enough that their knees were constantly brushing against each other.  Annie’s very large and slightly scary looking (but actually really nice according to Marco) cousin and best friend directly across from him. Annie and Mikasa were further down the table and Eren and Armin were on Marco’s other side.

Marco was talking, voice a little louder than usual and smile a little bigger, and gesturing as he told a story to a giggling Armin. Jean wasn’t exactly listening, he’d already heard about Marco’s wrestling team’s prank war with the football team and had silently balked at how *evil* his boyfriend was (flour paste filled water balloons dropped on people’s heads was just mean), but he was watching. 

He liked watching Marco and it was that much better when his boyfriend was like this, all big smiles, eager voice, and laughing eyes. Not as good as when Marco was looking at him with a smirk and heated eyes but that might have been Jean’s bias talking. He was extremely bias.

It was really nice to have Marco who was, in his opinion, seriously attractive look at him like he was the hot one. The way Marco faltered in his story, cheeks flushing and eyes widening slightly before flashing him a small grin, when Jean put his hand on the bare skin of his leg made Jean’s heart beat a little faster.

He liked Marco a lot. A lot. Not just because he was nice to look at or anything either. That had been the start of it, before he’d known Marco, but now there were other things. They got along really well, liked the same sort of things and there was just something very….easy about being with him. He was smart and funny and quick on his feet and just the right degree of sarcastic and mean to suit Jean, but also much kinder and more considerate than Jean ever was. 

He found, much to his occasional embarrassment because it felt silly after the fact, that they could text or video chat with each other late into the night without realizing how much time had gone by. It felt like he’d known Marco for years, could talk to him as easy as he talked to Armin or Ymir, but at the same time he was always hearing something new. And wanted to hear everything Marco had to say with none of the boredom that usually followed listening to someone talk about themselves a lot. 

He even liked just sitting with him at one of their houses, watching a movie and saying nothing at all to each other for long stretches, just smiling looks and tangled fingers (often to the tune of Jean’s mother going “How cute!” From the kitchen. Which brought him to another good thing, Marco’s family was as embarrassing as his own so Jean didn’t have to feel so bad about his parents being so ‘involved’.)

So no, it wasn’t just a physical attraction, which was lucky because when you swapped numbers with a guy at a bus stop you were sort of risking trouble. He and Marco clicked and it was great and…but he was also really hot. On a physical level Marco was what Jean’s shower and nighttime thoughts were made of.

Literally. Six weeks and a few mind melting makeout sessions into the dating and dirty thoughts about Marco were pretty much a constant thing. Constant. His imagination had no problem filling in what it thought Marco looked like under his clothes and spinning out fantasies and…

The point was Marco was stupidly hot. It didn’t matter if he was in his school uniform or showed up for a date in jeans and a well worn t-shirt, or a cute dress and makeup that Jean was always afraid he’d end up smudging, or shorts, boots, a sweatshirt, and nothing but gloss on his lips; Jean still felt lightheaded whenever he saw him. His heart always started beating a little faster and his palms became disgusting sweaty and he couldn’t quite manage to not be a little tongue tied for the firat fifteen minutes they were together and-

He got a little stupid around Marco. He felt like it was justified for a least a little while longer. Everything was still new and shiny and Marco was just really hot. All the time, and Jean meant that seriously. He didn’t have a real preference one way or the other.

Well maybe a small preference but it was less about what Marco wore and more about what he showed.

Jean was developing an unhealthy (maybe) preoccupation with Marco’s legs. And, on the one hand, that seemed inevitable because Marco’s legs were what he’d noticed first and they were amazing; long, with clusters of freckles here and there, thick thighs and muscular calves, strong and firm but when he got his hands on them there was give and softness. On the other hand he liked putting his hands on Marco’s legs more than anywhere else and that seemed…weird, maybe.

Anything Marco wore that showed his legs was Jean’s ‘favorite’, and the more leg seen or readily available for him to run his greedy hands over the better. So maybe a preference for the dresses and skirts and shorts. He hesitated, even in his head, to call it women’s clothing because Marco wasn’t a woman and *they* were his clothes. Marco just, in his own words, had always liked being able to dress up and get pretty sometimes.

It was distinctly different from Armin’s ‘thing’, and Jean felt shitty even calling it a thing in his head but he wasn’t sure how else to phrase it so thank God no one ever asked him to articulate anything like this. Armin also liked to wear more feminine clothing sometimes but Armin sometimes showed up in a skirt and he was still a boy and other times she showed up in a skirt and was a girl or might be neither but it had nothing to do with the clothes but just how he felt some days.

Jean didn’t exactly understand it. He accepted it, tried to keep up with the right pronouns while not being a dick, they were friends no matter what, and he’d happily hold down anyone who had something jerky to say while Eren punched them in the face but it was sort of confusing for him.

But he could acknowledge that his confusion didn’t matter as long as Armin was happy. He would have been stupid to not notice that sophomore year had been one where Armin had changed a lot and not just because they sometimes favored the skirted uniform or had started dating Eren or had finally told Jean to stop being such a miserable dick all the time (which hadn’t been undeserved.) They seemed happier with things and themselves, more likely to speak up and push for what they wanted. Armin had even let Historia talk then into debate team and cheerleading tryouts (Jean could literally not imagine two activities more different from each other than those two were.) The Armin he’d grown up with wouldn’t have dared be part of either.

He’d thought, at first, Marco was similar. It hadn’t mattered to him one way or the other, aside from not wanting to fuck something up or say the wrong thing, but he knew now that similar clothing choices did not the same situation make.

Which was a pretty valuable lesson when you came down to it. Assumptions based on how someone was dressed were something he’d knew were stupid to make but had found himself doing anyway. He liked to think he got a little better, a little less likely to jump to conclusions and open his mouth to say dumb things, than he’d been before.

He was pretty sure that, at the very least, two years ago the idea of sitting in public with Marco like this would have been something he rejected. It wouldn’t have mattered that he was attracted to Marco or that the other teen was someone he could talk to like he’d known him forever or any of the other good stuff. He would have been embarrassed, mortified really, and confused.

He would have been too freaked out by a skirt and some makeup to entertain the thought of approaching Marco. Way too caught up in what someone was wearing and why and what people would think of him if he was with that person to even consider getting to know them. Bringing someone like Marco home to meet his parents or introducing him to his friends would have been out of the question

He would have been missing out and, as new as everything was and as much as they were still figuring each other out, he felt like that would have been pretty tragic. 

"Jean?" Marco nudged him, bringing him out of his thoughts. The other teen was wearing a confused smile, head tilted in a way that let dark brown waves fall forward over his face, and Jean realized he must have been staring a while. 

Which explained why everyone was either smirking, trying not to laugh or, in Eren's case, outright laughing. 

"Oh." He muttered, feeling his face heat up. "Sorry. I, uh, was distracted." 

"We noticed." Mikasa said dryly.

Armin snorted before adding. "Maybe Marco should start covering up if you're going to zone out like that." 

Jean's eyes darted down to Marco's thigh, where his hand was still sitting, almost involuntarily. When he looked back up it was to Marco blushing and looking very pointedly away from him. 

"The movie is starting soon." Bertholdt said; Jean couldn't help but thing the taller teen was taking pity on him and steering the conversation elsewhere. "We should go." 

In short order everyone was climbing to their feet, gathering their things, and heading to the counter to pay. Jean did his best to not watch the way Marco's skirt, a deep green with a floral pattern, brushed against the back of his knees as he trailed after him. 

Tried and failed.

**Author's Note:**

> This story references a carnival date for Jean and Marco that I'm working on. One day it will exist for all the world to see!


End file.
